Saturday, December 25, 2004

Poem: Butt Why

Butt Why?

Do you think you have some kind of right,
To pollute my lungs and the world all around,
This belief that the earth is a personal ashtray,
Is a view that only serves to confound.

Hey!
I am eating lunch, if you could just stop to notice,
And I ordered chicken, not nicotine smoke,
While you think your addiction is harmless,
I don't recall asking for soot in my Coke.

Can you hear me, I'm coughing in misery,
And if you had even an ounce of concern you'd repair,
If you need it so badly then swallow it,
Then at least you might save me from this smoky despair.

You smokers care so little for the environment you clutter,
How many butts from car windows can you toss with so little regard,
And if not that, you just flick them wherever,
As if my lawn was a place to dispose and discard.

So stop!
The rest of us are sickened by your pathetic addiction,
And we suffer in ill-health and the destruction you've wrought,
The hazards you bring to life all around you,
Are increased with each pack you have bought.

Copyright SGW 1997

4 comments:

Kathleen Mortensen said...

Oh! I'm so with you on this. I would love to be able to say this out loud to some of those inconsiderate puffing prats!
I loved in the 2nd verse the way you chose "chicken" - it fit really well with the word addiction. I know that sounds weird, but something clicked for me with that.
Kat

STP said...

Thanx. I think chicken chose me, though, as, if memory serves, I was eating a chicken sandwich when a smoker got on my nerves at one point in the mental framing of this poem. The best thing we ever did in NJ was make smoking illegal in all bars and restaurants. I consider it a form of child abuse when parents smoke at home.

Kathleen Mortensen said...

It's illegal here too. Thank God. I used to dance the night away in clubs in the 80s and I can't begin to describe the state of my hair at the end of the night what with hair spray and the film of nicotine and tar.
Gross.

STP said...

I would go to bars here and not even drink, but then I would leave and be physically ill. It was almost like an allergic reaction to cigarettes.